


one thousand push-ups

by wanderlustings



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustings/pseuds/wanderlustings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosa didn’t come to the academy to make friends. It was better this way, she rationalized. This would make it that much easier to kick everyone’s asses and graduate near the top of her class. No friends? No problem. She didn’t need anyone holding her back.</p>
<p>But then, that very first day, Jake Peralta plopped down in the seat beside her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one thousand push-ups

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE Jake and Rosa's friendship, and I desperately want to know more about their time together in the police academy. In place of actual canon facts, I wrote this.

When Rosa enrolled at the police academy, she wasn’t expecting much from her peers.

Everyone had a different reason for wanting to become a cop. Some had dreamt of it since childhood – they were straightforward, honest, and willing to serve and protect. Others were people who had been searching for a way to turn their lives around, to right whatever wrongs they had in their past. Rosa could deal with those people.

But then there were the ones who were legacies – people whose police roots stretched back for generations. While some had good intentions, too many of them were entitled assholes, expecting to land a seat at the table by virtue of their surnames alone.

Those were the people Rosa couldn’t stand.

Rosa herself, on the other hand, didn’t really fit into any of these categories. Looks-wise and personality-wise, she stuck out like a sore thumb. On her first day at the academy, she entered the classroom to a host of leering gazes, wolf-whistles, and disrespectful comments about her race and body.

She gritted her teeth and kept her gaze directed forward. It sucked, it really did, but Rosa was nothing if not tough. Besides, she didn’t come to the academy to make friends. It was better this way, she rationalized. This would make it that much easier to kick everyone’s asses and graduate near the top of her class. No friends? No problem. She didn’t need anyone holding her back.

But then, that very first day, Jake Peralta plopped down in the seat beside her.

Rosa didn’t expect much from him either. Here was a guy who had probably cruised through life thanks to the privileges his gender and race afforded him, a guy who had probably never dealt with anything remotely difficult. He talked a mile a minute and made snarky comments under his breath, probably trying to get a smile out of her. Rosa didn’t give him the satisfaction.

She knew his type – the kind of guy who pretended to befriend you for the sole purpose of getting into your pants. Dealing with guys like this had become a necessary evil. Through trial and error, Rosa had found that scowls and one-word responses were usually enough to scare even the most dedicated douchebag away. If that didn’t work, she could always resort to beating the hell out of him. Jake would be gone in no time.

Rosa was wrong about Jake, but she didn’t know that yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and Rosa can’t seem to get rid of Jake.

So far, she hasn’t been responsive to his comments, aside from a few scoffs and eye-rolls, but that doesn’t seem to deter him. She doesn’t know if she finds that annoying or admirable.

If she’s being honest, he really does make their boring classes just a little more bearable. He pokes fun at a particularly stuffy instructor’s combover and complains about how Die Hard never prepared him for “all this boring stuff.”

“Being a cop requires hella paperwork – who knew?” he grumbles one day during lunch.

Since Rosa keeps to herself, Jake is constantly speaking to fill the silence, and she ends up knowing a lot more about him than she probably needs to. 

For example, she knows Jake grew up in Brooklyn, but has family in California. She knows that he’s close with his mother and his grandmother, who he refers to as “Nana”. He doesn’t speak much about his father, but when he does his voice is tinged with pent-up anger and resentment. She also knows he has a childhood friend named Gina, who is constantly pulling him into strange situations. (“She made me dye her hair red but I got the dye all over my arm and it was stained for weeks. It looked like I had an infection.”)

Today, he’s talking about how Gina has been forcing him to watch Gilmore Girls, which he initially resisted. “But now, I’m like, strangely invested in it,” he admits as he bites off the end of a French fry. It’s their lunch break and they’re sitting on the outdoor patio of a burger joint a few blocks from the academy. Rosa has never actually invited him to eat lunch with her, but they always end up at the same place every day. She’s just accepted it at this point.

“I care so much about these fictional characters’ lives and it’s freaking me out," Jake continues. "Gina knows she got me hooked and she keeps gloating about it. Have you heard about the show? Do you watch it?” 

He gives Rosa a chance to respond, as he usually does, but to no avail. He doesn’t seem too bothered, though. 

“Dumb question, I probably shouldn’t have asked. Anyways, we should be heading back soon," he says, checking his watch. "It’s almost 1:30.” 

Rosa balls up her napkins and the remnants of her sandwich. As she stands up to throw her trash away, she pauses by Jake’s seat. 

“You know,” she says in a conversational tone, “Lorelai is my favorite character.”

She pretends not to notice the delighted grin spreading across Jake’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

It's been four months, and for some reason Jake still seems to like hanging out with Rosa. 

Rosa doesn’t know if she can consider him a friend. She’s not even sure she knows what a friend is. What she does know is that Jake is the only person here who truly seems to respect her and cares about what she has to say. And maybe, just maybe, she respects him too.

They’re running a training exercise which has them grouped into pairs, and both she and Jake are decked out in tactical gear. Jake looks like an overgrown kid in the uniform, his fluffy hair peeking out from under his helmet.

“God, I’m still so sore from all of yesterday’s drills,” he complains as he adjusts the straps on his boots. “I never want to do any sort of physical activity ever again.”

Rosa scoffs. “Tough luck.”

He makes a face at her. “By the way, what’s our game plan?”

Rosa glances at the diagram laid out on the table in front of them. Today’s exercise is meant to simulate the extraction of stolen goods from a warehouse. The diagram, which includes the room layout and the number of perps, is meant to represent intel from officers who have scouted the place beforehand.

“Easy,” says Rosa, tapping the diagram. “We come in through the back, neutralize the two guys standing guard, retrieve the stolen goods, and go.”

Jake wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know. It seems too… easy. Like there’s a trick.”

Rosa frowns. “How so?”

“The room’s filled with stuff. See all these boxes?” Jake says. “They’re perfect hiding spots for other perps. I think the guys in charge of the exercise are purposely not telling us everything.”

Rosa considers this. “You think it’s a test?”

“Yeah,” says Jake. “Like maybe we’re being judged on how we deal with unexpected circumstances. Maybe we need to take extra steps as a precaution.”

Rosa looks at the diagram again. The operation seems simple and straightforward, but he’s got a point. She turns her gaze back to Jake, who’s looking at her expectantly. “This is a big part of our grade. You sure about this?”

Jake nods. “Pretty sure. If I’m wrong, I’ll do a thousand push-ups.”

Rosa smirks. “Are you even physically capable of doing that?”

Jake chuckles. “Probably not. But I’ll do my best.” His gaze turns a little more serious. “For real though, do you trust me on this?”

Something inside Rosa shifts. She looks at Jake, at his earnest expression, his slightly-too-big vest, the baby fat that still clings to his jaw. She thinks about how he never laughs along when other guys in their class make racist jokes, about how his shoulders tighten when someone makes an offhand comment about her body. She thinks about how Jake is one of the few people who has never let her down.

She looks him in the eye and nods. “You’ve got yourself a deal. One thousand push-ups.”

She sticks out her hand. Jake shakes it and grins.

 

* * *

 

 

It turns out that Jake’s hunch is correct -- he and Rosa are one of three teams who score the highest on the exercise. They celebrate afterwards at a bar with some of their classmates. Rosa sips lazily on her beer as Jake entertains the group with an over-exaggerated version of what happened during the drill. He makes sure to include her in the conversation and give her opportunities to chime in, which she appreciates. Rosa’s still not very close with many of the people in their class, but Jake’s personality is magnetic. Indirectly, he’s brought people together; those who get along with Jake tend to get along with each other as well.

She taps Jake on the arm, interrupting him mid-sentence. “I’m going to the bar to get another beer,” she says. “You want one?”

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” says Jake, distracted. He’s still in full-on storytelling mode. Rosa smiles a little to herself.

She’s at the bar, about to get the bartender’s attention, when she senses someone approaching her.

“Well, well, well,” says Greg Podolski. “If it isn’t the ice queen.”

Rosa turns to give him her best death glare. Podolski is a grade-A jerk. He’s the younger brother of the deputy commissioner and comes from a long line of distinguished law enforcement officers. As a result, he automatically expects to be the best at everything and to get whatever he wants. He’d tried to hit on Rosa when she first got to the academy, only to have his advances rebuffed. The fact that she and Jake had outscored his team by a large margin in today’s exercise probably hadn’t helped his mood.

Rosa’s lip curls into a sneer. “What’s the matter? Upset about getting your ass kicked today?”

Podolski looks like he wants to smack her, and Rosa almost wants him to. He has a bit of a size advantage, but Rosa can get a hell of a lot angrier. She’s learned over the years that using anger as fuel makes her pretty damn good in a fight.

Instead of resorting to anything physical, Podolski glances back toward Jake, who’s finishing up his story. Rosa follows his gaze. Jake has the whole group laughing, and someone reaches out to high-five him. A couple of guys pat him on the back as they gather up their things to leave. As she watches him, Rosa thinks about how easy it is for Jake to win people over. She wonders if he’s even aware of the effect he has.

Rosa’s not sure what Podolski sees in her facial expression, but something compels him to demand, a little too loudly: “So, tell me. What’s the deal with you and Peralta?”

Rosa snorts. “What do you mean?”

“He your boyfriend, or what?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” says Rosa. She turns back to the bar. This conversation really isn’t worth her time.

Podolski isn’t done yet. “So what? You just fucking for fun?” When Rosa ignores him, he presses on. “Betcha do that with a lot of guys, am I right?” He leans in, so close that Rosa can smell the alcohol on his breath even with her face turned away. “Betcha like that stuff, don't you, you whore?”

Rosa’s had enough. She spins around and shoves Podolski so hard that he stumbles backward. “Get the fuck out of my face,” she snarls. “And don’t you ever say that shit to me again.”

“Or what?” Podolski says. By this time they’ve attracted the attention of mostly everyone at the bar. Several of their classmates are whispering to each other. Out of the corner of her eye, Rosa sees Jake take a step toward her, looking concerned.

When Rosa doesn’t answer immediately, Podolski gets a glint in his eye. “Whaddaya see in him anyway, huh?” he asks, gesturing toward Jake. Rosa’s fists clench. Jake freezes.

“Yeah, tell me,” Podolski continues. “How’d he land you? Or maybe he never landed you at all. Yeah, that makes more sense. He ain’t worth it. Peralta here thinks he can be a good enough cop to make up for his pathetic, sad life so far, but at the end of the day he’s still just a little bitch who—“

Podolski is cut off as Rosa abruptly pivots on her heel and stalks away, approaching Jake, whose expression has been shifting from confusion to anger to hurt and back again. He tilts his head at her, asking a silent question.

Rosa isn’t sure this is a good idea, but she figures it’s an easier and equally humiliating alternative to beating up Podolski.

“Play along,” Rosa hisses as she grabs Jake’s face and presses her mouth to his.

Rosa’s too angry to think clearly, and she probably kisses him a little too violently, but she’ll worry about explaining that later. Jake luckily has the presence of mind to kiss her back, his hands placed gently but firmly on her back. Around them, Rosa can hear the murmuring reach a crescendo. Someone to their left even cheers in support.

After some amount of time has passed (Rosa’s not sure how much), she turns back to Podolski, who looks shell-shocked. “I like Jake because he’s a good man,” she says through gritted teeth. “That’s something you’ll never know anything about.”

She turns back to Jake, who is slightly flushed and looking just as stunned as Podolski. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Rosa says, grabbing Jake’s hand and practically dragging him out of the bar.

They walk a few blocks. Rosa’s still fired up, and she has half a mind to go back to the bar and smash Podolski’s head into the wall for good measure. But she doesn’t, because that would probably get her expelled from the academy, and that would mean Podolski comes out the winner. Rosa refuses to let that happen.

When they turn the corner, Jake stops walking and turns to look at her. He has a bit of her lipstick smudged on the corner of his mouth. Distractedly, Rosa reaches up and brushes it off.

“Okay, _first_ of all—“ Jake begins.

Rosa cuts him off. “That was a one-time thing. Just so we’re clear.” Now that she has a bit of distance from the situation, both physically and mentally, she realizes just how badly she might’ve fucked everything up.

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” Jake says, waving his hand dismissively, and Rosa feels herself relax a little. “Just… holy _shit_ , you completely destroyed Podolski in front of everyone at the bar. _Everyone_!” He gives her a wide toothy grin. “That was so awesome!”

Rosa can't help but smirk back. "I had to do something to shut him up, and punching him in the throat probably would've gotten me in trouble. Besides, I couldn't let him keep insulting you in front of our entire class."

Jake's gaze softens. Normally Rosa panics at the first sign of emotion, but somehow it's different with Jake. He never expects anything from her that she's not willing to give.

"Hey," he says. "Thanks. You really didn't have to do that."

Rosa shrugs. "We look out for each other. A thousand push-ups, right?"

"Right." Jake smiles at her, a real smile, not the goofy grin she's used to seeing. Rosa smiles back a little in spite of herself.

As they turn and continue walking, Jake furrows his brow. "But hey, how are we gonna deal with the fact that everyone thinks we're dating now?" he asks. "I'm probably not the best fake-boyfriend material, sorry."

Rosa shrugs. She's not as bothered by this as she was expecting to be. "We won't deal with it. Let them wonder."

"An air of mystery. I like it."

Rosa nudges him with her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I could do a lot worse when it comes to fake boyfriends. Your kissing needs work, though."

Jake places a hand on his chest, mock offended. "In my defense, you warned me, like, a millisecond beforehand."

"Gotta think fast, Jake," she chides him. "It's part of the job. Do better next time."

Jake raises an eyebrow. "Is there gonna be a next time?"

Rosa shrugs. "You never know. But if you ever need anything, I'll return the favor. If anyone ever gets too rowdy with you at a bar, give me a call and I'll scare 'em off."

Jake laughs at that. "You're a great wingman."

"Oh, I know."

 

* * *

 

 

Rosa and Jake both graduate from the academy two months later. Rosa graduates near the top of the class (as she expected), and Jake’s not too far behind. They're sent off to different precincts, but whenever their schedules allow, they make plans to catch up over greasy burgers and fries.

Fast forward a few years, and they both make detective around the same time. Shortly after his promotion, Jake texts Rosa a picture of his official nameplate, complete with several exclamation points and emojis. She texts him a thumbs-up emoji in response.

Being a detective means lots of late nights at the precinct, poring over the details of a case. Rosa's tired and more prickly than usual (which is saying something), and she barely has enough time for herself, let alone for other people. Her meet-ups with Jake become less frequent.

Six months in, she's transferred over to the 99th precinct in Brooklyn. The Nine-Nine is a little less frenetic than her previous precinct, and she appreciates the change of scenery. Rosa's never been one to back away from a challenge, but after interrogating one too many violent perps who refused to confess, she figured it was only a matter of time before she cracked and carried out her own form of vigilante justice. 

McGinley, her new captain, seems nice enough, if a little disinterested. He introduces Rosa to her new partner, Det. Charles Boyle, who resembles an overeager puppy, and leaves them to their own devices.

Charles, who is beyond excited by her arrival ("I can already tell you're gonna be so much cooler than my last partner, he was like 70 years old and only talked about his joint pain--" "Charles, please be quiet." "Okay."), gives her a grand tour of the precinct and spends about ten minutes talking about the panini press he keeps in his desk drawer.

Charles is about to demonstrate how the panini press works, much to Rosa's dismay, when he glances over her shoulder and suddenly perks up.

"He's baaaaaaack!" Charles sings in a scarily high-pitched tone. "Rosa, allow me to introduce you to my best friend and the greatest person in the universe."

"Okay, I'm flattered, but I wouldn't go that far," says a familiar voice. Rosa turns and finds herself reunited with none other than Jake Peralta.

He's gotten a haircut since the last time she's seen him and looks a little more grown up, though he still has that same boyish energy Rosa has become so familiar with. There’s a huge smile on his face.

"Rosa!" Jake exclaims. "It's so good to see you. Are you the new transfer?"

"That's me." She grins and clasps Jake's hand. "It's good to see you too, Jake."

Jake's smile becomes even wider, which Rosa didn't even think was possible. "This is gonna be so awesome."

Rosa's inclined to agree.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not the only one who feels like Jake and Rosa made out at least once, right? And then they just moved past it, as friends do.
> 
> Also I feel like this info would come up at an inappropriate time, like at Amy's bachelorette party ("You made out with my FIANCÉ?" "Relax, it was years ago and we only did it to piss someone off.")
> 
> Comment with your thoughts on Jake and Rosa if you want to ok bye


End file.
